


Worth It

by pyrrhical (anoyo)



Category: Chicago Justice (TV)
Genre: Collection: Rare Male Slash Exchange 2017, Community: trope_bingo, M/M, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 22:42:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11656200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoyo/pseuds/pyrrhical
Summary: Had it been worth it, to choose "right" over love?





	Worth It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sidewinder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidewinder/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this! This is actually my second go for this prompt (the first was terrible attorneyland nonsense). I don't know if this is the angle you wanted, but it's what I could see for Peter.

“All rise.”

“Mr. Foreman, has the jury reached a verdict?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Mr. Kearney?”

“On the count of aggravated assault with a deadly weapon, the jury finds the defendant guilty. On the count of murder committed in the course of a major felony, the jury finds the defendant guilty.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kearney.”

The courtroom was always a mess after the reading of the verdict. The spectators immediately began arguing amongst themselves, the security escort of the defendant either escorted him out or released him, and Peter was expected to do the classic “good game” with the opposing attorney. His first few solo cases, it had been exciting. He’d run a few easy wins to begin, and slowly been given more and more difficult cases.

Now, a year into prosecuting on his own, it was less exciting, and more a necessary evil before he could high-tail it out of the courtroom to deal with whatever other cases were sitting on his desk. 

The woes of being good at his job, apparently.

Peter approached the defense attorney with a smile pasted on his face. “Mr. Hart,” Peter greeted. The other attorney turned to face him, expression blank. Peter put out his hand. “Good argument.” The defense had worked the “pulled along with some bad folks” angle, and it had been well-executed. 

Hart shook Peter’s hand. “Your evidence was better,” he replied, and it was true. Peter had known he was going to win, walking into the courtroom that first day, because the evidence was ironclad. Telling a compassionate story had been the defense’s best bet, and they’d certainly tried.

Peter wasn’t sure whether the attorney was simply commenting on the case, or throwing out something a little ruder. His tone of voice gave nothing away. “I hope you’re able to get out and enjoy the weather after this,” Peter said, still smiling. He nodded at the other attorney, then put his hand in his pocket and headed for the exit.

“ASA Stone,” Hart said, making Peter turn. “Drinks?”

He considered for a moment, then, “Sure.”

 

“Mr. Hart,” Peter greeted, sliding up to the counter near where Hart was waiting for his drink.

The bartender put down what looked like scotch in from of Hart and turned to Peter. “What’re you having?”

“G&T, please,” Peter answered, giving the bartender the same smile he’d given Hart in the courtroom.

Hart turned to Peter once the bartender had gone off to mix Peter’s drink. “Call me Adam,” he said, taking a sip of his drink.

“Peter,” Peter answered before he turned to the returning bartender. 

Once Peter had his drink firmly secured, Hart asked, “Find a table?”

Peter nodded his agreement and followed after Hart to a small table near the back of the bar. 

“I asked about you,” Hart said as soon as they were both seated. 

“Oh?” Peter asked, taking a drink. He wasn’t sure where the conversation was going, but they were in a public place. He probably didn’t need to worry about a losing defense attorney stabbing him.

“When I found out you were the ASA on the case,” Hart continued. “I like to know who I’m up against.”

“That seems like a good policy,” Peter agreed. He’d done the same, at least as far as a surface glance. 

“Turns out one of the associates at my firm went to school with you,” Hart said, taking a drink. “Ben Simms.”

Taking a drink before he answered, Peter nodded. “I remember him.”

The corner of Hart’s mouth and his eyebrow rose together. “That’s good.” Hart’s amused expression stuck around as he continued, “He said you were good, if a bit righteous.”

Peter shrugged. “I’ve been called righteous before.”

“And good, too, I’m sure,” Hart said. “He also said you dated for a few years.”

That was it, then. “We did,” Peter agreed. “Most of law school.”

“Funny that no one else in our cozy little network seems to know about it,” Hart said, swirling his drink in his glass.

“It wasn’t a secret,” Peter said. “Most of our class knew about it, I’m sure.”

Hart nodded. “Fair enough.” He finished his drink in a long swig. “He wanted me to ask you a question.”

“Shoot,” Peter said. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to know; the relationship had imploded after two and a half years. It had been steady, sure, confident: Peter had loved Ben more than anyone before, or since. Only the last few weeks had been contentious, but they had been enough.

“He wanted to know if it was worth it,” Hart said before shrugging. “I didn’t make him clarify.”

Had it been worth it? Had Peter’s need to be right, to be good, been worth their relationship? With years of hindsight, the answer was more muddied than it would have been, if he’d heard it back then. 

Ben had always been the pragmatist, to Peter’s idealism. Sometimes he’d laughed and called Peter naive, but it had always been soft and just something with which to poke at him. Maybe Ben had meant it, but he hadn’t faulted Peter for it.

At least, he hadn’t until the end. 

Both Ben and Peter had focused on criminal law and being good trial attorneys. They’d done Mock Trial together and their team had been the one to beat. They complemented each other by setting pure passion and logical realism together. 

They’d been together almost from the start. They’d been in the same 1L section, had the same interests, and the complementary natures that had made them so great at working together had made them equally great at loving together.

Peter wasn’t the naive kid he’d been in law school; he didn’t believe that Ben had been the love of his life. 

He had a lot of life left, and no decision that important should be made without all the details.

But then? Back when his idealism was what was putting him through school? He hadn’t had that perspective. All of his time had been class, supplemental activities, and Ben. Some part of Peter had set Ben aside as his endgame. Some part of him was willing to believe in that forever.

They had been a perfect fit, until they hadn’t.

Ben had decided on criminal defense. Peter could respect the concept, but a part of him rebelled at the idea that because of a good defense attorney, guilty men could walk free. The law was good, the law was right, and the law would make sure the right man wound up behind bars.

He’d been teased again for his naivete, but it hadn’t felt like the soft push it usually was. At the time, Peter had thought Ben just didn’t understand. He’d tried to convince him.

As passionate Peter was about the law, Ben had him met. Ben had argued for the innocent who went to jail simply because there was no one to argue on their behalf, and the city just wanted a case wrapped up quickly. 

Peter had held that the law was right, and Ben had held that the reason for law was the people it served. Peter hadn’t disagreed. Not entirely.

But it had been enough. One final argument, one that had pushed a little too far, and everything had come crashing down. Ben had left, lived with a couple of their friends for the rest of the year. Peter had lost those friends, too.

He’d held on to the fact that he was right, and keeping the people safe was what he was meant to do.

Years later, dozens of cases later, Peter could see the shades of gray that had been so starkly black and white while he was in law school. He still believed, but he had learned how to play the game. A game he hadn’t even known existed.

Had it been worth it? Peter didn’t know; he didn’t think he ever would.

Peter finished his drink. “Tell him that when I figure it out, I’ll be sure to let him know.”

Hart pushed back from the table. He saluted Peter with his empty glass. “Have a good night, ASA Stone.” He walked away before Peter could do more than raise his glass. 

“Yeah,” Peter said, watching him leave. “You, too.”

He spared a last thought for Ben, for the maybes, before he swung on his coat, and headed out into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> This meets my rair pairs box in Trope Bingo.


End file.
